ThirtyOne
by RedSavant
Summary: A collection of thirty-one ficlets, each focusing on one girl from Mahora Girls' Junior High Class 3-A. Chapters are taken from all over the manga, so be caught up or expect to get spoiled. The sixth and final chapter is now up.
1. 1:6:24:15:28

**Aaaand here we go again! This'll eventually be a collection of thirty-one ficlets, one about each of the students in Class 3-A. Some will be long, others short; some will be dramatic, others funny (hopefully). We'll see how that goes, but for now, let's get to the first five.**

* * *

**1. Aisaka Sayo**

The plane hums in flight, the soft susurrus of icy air streaming over the chassis providing a quiet background to the conversations taking place around the cabin. As it has before, the drinks cart comes down the aisle; row after row of dozing or typing travelers assure the stewardess that no, thank you, they're fine. Finally, near the back of the plane, she is flagged down by a red-haired young woman. Putting on her smile, she pushes the cart down.

"What can I get for you, miss?" she asks politely. The young lady closes her notebook, a small flip-top pad like you see journalists using on television, and gives her a radiant smile.

"Green tea for me, please," she says, then turns to the empty seat next to her. "Want anything?" The stewardess feels her smile grow brittle as she notices the tiny doll lying on the seat cushion. She'd thought the girl too old for toys. As quickly as she can, she pours the tea and hands it over.

As the cart fades away down the aisle, the doll struggles upward until the seat belt is once again tucked securely under her arms. "I don't think I'm going to get my drink," she murmurs.

"Don't worry, Sayo-chan," Asakura says, smiling. "You can have some of mine."

* * *

**6. Okōchi Akira**

There was serenity in the water, Akira reflected, trailing a hand across the surface. Even here in the baths of Haruna's airship, with the steam dancing in the air and the heated water jets stirring the depths, the surface was placid, and clear. She pushed off, scything through the water with ease, feeling the displaced liquid surge behind her to fill in her wake.

She knew she had a reputation as being quiet, or even shy. It was true that she wasn't as outgoing as the rest of the class, that she wasn't as charismatic as Iinchō or as talented as Ako. But she wasn't shy so much as… baffled.

Ako. Akira sighed, her breath skimming the water. She watched the ripples chase each other across the bath. In the water, you could feel the flow of events. You could see the consequences of your actions. People were much more complicated, and much more unknowable. However much Ako pretended to be fine, however she had smiled and laughed at the ball, Akira remembered the broken girl she had held in her arms, remembered the heat of her tears. She remembered how little she had been able to do for her.

Akira pulled herself from the water. Yes, people were a mystery, one she'd preferred not to explore; but perhaps it was time to dive into those murky depths, and to get a better hold on the complexities hiding below the surface. She wrapped herself in one of the bathhouse's soft linen towels, drying the droplets of water that clung, pearl-like, to her skin.

Behind her, the water's surface stilled.

* * *

**24. Hakase Satomi**

"Hoo," Satomi sighed, leaning back in her worn old desk chair. The dull light from her computer screen, the only illumination in the room, glinted off her glasses, but behind the lenses her eyes sparkled with satisfaction. "You've outdone yourself this time, Professor." She cracked the kinks out of her neck with a long, circular stretch, then scrolled back up to read the header aloud.

" 'Artificial Infatuation: A study of simulations of affection in artificial intelligence/personality constructs and the mechanical and computational effects thereof.'" She chuckled softly to herself. All the data and relevant information from the Chachamaru Rampage event, as Engineering had begun referring to it, had been compiled and attached to the letter. All that remained was to send the whole package to MIT's computing and robotics labs. She could almost _taste_ the joint Nobel.

It would be incorrect to say that it was without a little ceremony that she moved the mouse to hover over 'send'. To be one of the first scientists ever to successfully create true artificial intelligence, much less an AI that could _love_ – she grinned eagerly at the mere thought of it.

A sharp twinge in her cheek gave her pause and, annoyed, she laid her hand on the affected area. Chachamaru had really whacked her one, hadn't she? It still hurt sometimes, even a month later. Slowly, her grin faded, to be replaced with… something else. Something mysterious.

What, scientifically speaking, was this feeling? Elevated heart rate, dilated blood vessels in the face and neck resulting in increased subjective temperature in the aforementioned areas, discomfort beneath the breastbone? In layman's terms, a flushed face and a pain in her chest. That sounded like embarrassment, or… guilt?

Ridiculous. The advancement of science was paramount, the cause she'd sold her soul to. Ego aside, the world could only benefit from increased knowledge of artificial intelligence and supercomplex computers. Surely, once she'd explained that to Chachamaru, these feelings would cease. They were unprofessional. There was no room in the laboratory for sentimentality, or superstition, or…

* * *

"G'morning, Hakase-san," Minami Tohru yawned, covering his mouth half-heartedly. "How'd that project you were working on turn out last night?"

"The report?" Satomi asked, chewing on a fresh Chao Bao Zi _nikuman_. "I deleted it."

That was enough to wake Minami up fully, and he stared at Satomi in shock. "Y-you deleted it? Why on earth did you do that?"

Satomi smiled, reaching up to adjust her glasses – or was it to brush her cheek?

"I promised a friend," she replied simply.

* * *

**15. Setsuna Sakurazaki**

"Bwah. Konoka, you got up at five AM to buy apples?" Asuna asked incredulously, rubbing sleep from her eyes as Konoka hefted a basket onto the small writing desk in the corner.

"You have to get up early to get the best ones," Konoka said, pouting. "And I wanted to see Secchan."

Setsuna, sitting nearby, offered a plastic bag to Konoka, who took it excitedly. "We stopped by the convenience store as well," the swordswoman explained, somewhat resignedly. "Ojō-sama insisted. Apparently –" she paused as Konoka let out a delighted "Aha!" – "Apparently apples go well with cake frosting."

"It does, Se-chan!" Konoka replied, placing little ¥100 cans of vanilla and chocolate cupcake frosting on the table next to the basket. "You scoop up the frosting with slices of apple."

"Apples are supposed to be good for you…" Asuna muttered. "It's a good thing Negi's off with Kū Fei-chan. He'd be all over these."

"I could go get him for you, ane-san," Chamo offered, poking his head out of Asuna's underwear drawer. She threw a textbook at him.

"Aw, this one's squishy," Konoka moaned, holding a dark red apple up to her eye. "Secchan, did you remember to check them?"

Setsuna shook her head sheepishly. "Sorry, ojō-sama. I didn't want to squeeze your apples."

"Yes you did. Admit it," Chamo put in slyly.

Setsuna flushed bright red and made for the dresser. "I'll squeeze _you_," she muttered, reaching for the ermine.

Chamo fled.

* * *

**28. Murakami Natsumi**

"You're kidding me, right, Natsumi-nēchan?" Kotarō muttered, his voice made tinny through the thin wooden door.

"No, Kotarō-kun. Please hurry up. We're on stage soon," Natsumi replied, trying not to fidget. The time right before the curtain lifted was always the worst; even after so many years with the Theatre Club, she still got jittery with nothing to do but wait.

"Weren't you guys practicin' with some goofy elementary kid?" Kotarō grumbled, and Natsumi could hear him sliding the costumes around on their racks.

"Hikaru-kun got sick," she called. "It's costume 234. Just look for the –"

"I know what it looks like," he interrupted her. "I'm just havin' trouble findin' – ah."

"Quick," she urged him. Hikaru-kun's role wasn't really an important one, but it did have one line, and cutting it out would throw off the comedic timing of the scene.

"Yeah, yeah," he shot back, over the sounds of cloth sliding across skin. For some reason, Natsumi felt her face heat up.

"So, um, Kotarō-kun, thanks for agreeing to help us out," she said. Perhaps if she distracted herself, the embarrassing flush would go away.

"Eh, I wasn't doin' anything else anyway," he replied. "An' I already went to see Chizu-ne an' Iinchō-nesan, so…"

"Eh?" Natsumi couldn't help letting a little bit of annoyance show. Last?

"Yeah," he continued. "I went around earlier with Ne –" He broke off, and there was a rather loud clatter; it sounded as though he'd thrown the hanger to the floor.

"Kotarō-kun?" Natsumi called, concerned.

"I ain't wearin' this," he growled. "Not with Negi watchin'."

"Wh-what? Kotarō-kun, you have to! We don't have anyone else who can do it," she cried. "What's wrong with Negi-sensei being in the audience, anyway?"

"He's my rival," he answered, voice sounding like he was pulling something over his head. Like, say, a costume shirt. "I'm not gonna wear some stupid costume in front of my rival."

"Kotarō-kun, please," she pleaded. "Do it for me."

The sounds of cloth and Kotarō's half-inaudible grumblings stopped abruptly. Natsumi found herself leaning closer to the door, trying to hear something.

Suddenly, the door opened inward, and Natsumi pinwheeled backward to keep from falling over. Kotarō stood in the door, fully costumed.

"You play dirty, Natsumi-nechan," he mumbled. Was that a faint hint of pink in his cheeks? It must just have been the poor lighting backstage.

Natsumi smiled, then bent to give the boy demon a hug. "Hey! What the heck, Natsumi-nechan?" he sputtered, struggling to escape.

"Thank you, Kotarō-kun," she said, smiling.

This time he definitely did flush, and looked away. "Let's just get this over with," he said, starting toward the wings. Natsumi watched him for a moment, still smiling, then ran to catch up.

* * *

**So there you have it, five of thirty-one. Am I crazy? Perhaps. That depends on whether I actually finish this project, y'know?**

**Remember, reviews are love! There are still three spots open in Chapter 2, so let me know who you'd like to see and I'll see what I can do.**


	2. 20:22:10:12:4

****

As always, please remember to review! Let me know who you'd like to see in the next batch, and if I don't already have plans for her I'll see what I can do!

**20. Kaede Nagase**

"Nin nin," Kaede chuckled to herself, clutching the thin strip of blue cloth tightly in her fist. It'd been rather easy to slip by Team Alba's defenses with Mana laying down covering fire. She felt a little bad, really, about sneaking past Negi-bōzu; but that was what ninjas did, after all.

Ahead, the edge of the forest loomed like a dark cloud on the horizon. Once she made it into the shade of the ancient trees, it was only a few hundred more yards back to Team Atra's base and victory. On the plains, there was no telling who she'd run into, but the forest was her home.

Kaede paused once she reached the forest's edge. She should feel safer under cover, but something wasn't right. Her sharp eyes scanned the area – ah. That stand of grass had been bent, then rather hastily pushed back into place. Overall, it was amateurish, which meant that… yes, there was the _third_ trap, hidden behind the second that she was supposed to see and feel safe having avoided. It was a nice try, but someone was underestimating her. And that was a mistake.

Kaede leapt upward, landing nimbly on a thick branch. She gathered her legs under her for another powerful jump, then jerked in surprise. Her feet were adhered to the wood.

"Hoho, got you, Kaede-san," Haruna laughed, stepping around a nearby tree to survey her prisoner. The Imperium Graphices lay cradled in the crook of her arm, and she twirled her quill with devilish delight. "All the branches are sticky, so don't bother trying to get away."

"Very good, Paru-dono," Kaede said, nodding respectfully. "Your drawing speed has improved."

"Thanks," Paru replied, grinning. "Mind if I take our flag back?"

"No, you caught me," Kaede conceded, dropping the little scrap of blue. Paru reached up to grab it –

"Aiyah!" Kū Fei shouted, jumping from behind Haruna to grab the flag in midair. "Coming up –aru, Kaede!" She jumped up the trunk of the tree, abandoning her shoes as they stuck, to land on Kaede's flat palm.

"Off you go de gozaru," the ninja said, bringing her hand back to shoulder-level and throwing the Chinese girl bodily into the forest. Paru paled.

"Tricky," the dōjinshi-ka muttered, drawing quickly. "I've underestimated you, Kū-chan. But it won't happen again!" So saying, she strapped on the sketchy jetpack that had just appeared, flying into the forest after Kū Fei.

Kaede let out a soft laugh, absently leaning against the tree trunk. There was a pause.

"Uh-oh, de gozaru."

* * *

**22. Narutaki Fūka**

"So you see, it's just a matter of concentration and willpower de gozaru," Kaede finished, letting her array of shadow clones collapse. Fūka waved the smoke from her face, eyes bright.

"Wow, Kaede-_sempai_! That was really amazing!" she enthused, hopping up and down a little. "And you can make as many as you want?"

"Well, it depends on one's strength, Fūka-dono," the tall ninja replied, smiling at her _kohai_. "I myself can only manage six solid clones right now, and that's after years of training."

"I wanna try," Fūka declared, skipping a few steps away. She assumed a look of furious concentration, bringing her hands together with a slap. "Kagebunshin no jutsu!"

There was a small puff of smoke, and when it cleared, a second pink-haired girl stood in the clearing. Fūka stared at her in amazement. "I did it! Kaede-_sempai_, I did it! I'm a ninja!" she shouted, pumping her fist at the sky.

"Kaede-_sempai_, the smoke bombs you gave me don't work very well," the second girl complained. After a moment, she seemed to notice Fūka. "Oh, hi, onēchan. What did you do?"

"Hi, Fumika," Fūka muttered.

* * *

**10. Karakuri Chachamaru**

The skies roiled over Mahora Gakuen, churning with pitch-black storm clouds the sparked with lightning. From the looks of things, it'd been raining for a few hours already, Evangeline noted, looking out the window. Spend a week or so in the resort and look what happens. She sighed, turning away. There was no sense going outside into _that_, not when the bōya and his partners would just be hiding underneath their beds anyway.

"Master." Evangeline raised a finely-sculpted eyebrow as she turned to look at Chachamaru. The gynoid hadn't changed out of her resort-standard maid outfit, which meant that she probably was worried about something.

"What is it, Chachamaru?" The Undying Mage asked, turning back to look out the window again. "I thought you were making tea."

"Yes, Master. But it occurred to me that, with the rain and the weather outside…" she trailed off, as if wilting under her mistress' attention, however indirect it was. "With the weather outside, I am concerned for my cats," she finally finished.

Evangeline snorted. "Your cats? They're strays, Chachamaru. They'll be fine. It's just a little rain." As if to prove her wrong, however, the noise of the rain pounding on the roof intensified.

"Master, may I leave the house to ensure that the cats are doing well?" Chachamaru asked. Evangeline opened her mouth, then closed it again as lightning struck the top of the clock tower with a deafening crash.

"No. You'll be damaged, and I'm not going out into that to pick up your charred chassis," she replied. "Go make some tea, Chachamaru."

The gynoid did not move.

Evangeline stepped away from the window this time, her attention fully on her servant. "Chachamaru, go make some tea."

"I… will not, Master," the gynoid replied, her voice catching. "I must ensure the safety of the cats."

"Chachamaru, I forbid you to –" Evangeline began, but Chachamaru was already gone, the door swinging out into the oppressive air of a late summer storm.

* * *

It wasn't difficult to locate the cats around Mahora Gakuen, not with flight capability and heat vision. Granted, the rain interfered with her thrusters and every flash of lightning sent a dizzy pattern of overload static across her optical readout, but overall Chachamaru felt she was doing well.

"You are safe now," she told one cat, placing him within the deep doorway of the Literature building. Despite his miserable appearance, the big tom purred happily and settled down to begin licking his fur into order. Chachamaru straightened up, casting around for any other cats in the area before she took off again.

The last section of her patrol took her near the World Tree; almost all of the cats had taken cover from the rain and flooding in doorways and within the covered hallways of the dormitories. That was good. Satisfied, she boosted upward – wait. What was that sound?

She looked around, confused. There were no additional heat signatures in view, but she clearly heard a cat. There! A dim red spot bobbed weakly in the river. As she watched, it was subsumed by a wave of turbulent water, and the faint meowing she had heard cut off.

"No!" she cried, immediately pushing her thrusters to max power. She flew along the dark surface of the water, anxiously seeking out the small white form of the kitten. Was that it? No, simply a piece of paper. There it was.

She pulled her arms to her sides, dropping into the water just behind the tiny feline. She grabbed the kitten, rolling to cradle it against her chest and allow it to breathe, and fired her boosters to escape the water.

Nothing happened. Instead of the rush of fire and motion she'd expected, she felt only a strange sensation – one she almost instantly recognized. Her booster ports were taking on water, and she was beginning to sink.

Chachamaru narrowed her eyes. If it had been just her, fine; but the kitten had to survive. She irised the booster ports closed. If she couldn't fly from the river, she'd have to swim. Taking a firm but gentle grip on the kitten, she stroked upward; but the water she'd accumulated made even basic motion difficult. The liquid seemed to be interfering with her joints; any more might cause damage to her internal systems.

It made no difference. Her head breached the surface and she whipped her head around, looking for the nearest shoreline. She ran through the calculations in an instant, raised the hand holding the kitten, and shot off an improvised half-strength rocket punch. She deposited the kitten gently beneath a tree, but the cable had snagged on a wrought-iron bench. She detached it, ignoring the small amount of water that drained into the port. Now that the cat was safe, she could simply… begin to leak?

Despite Hakase's craftsmanship, several joints in her chassis seemed to be letting water in. It was a slow trickle, but combined with the water already present she would soon be unable to move, let alone leave the river. Chachamaru closed her eyes. If there was nothing to be done, there was nothing to be done. Master would have to commission… Master would have to… what exactly _was_ she doing?

For Evangeline stood at the crest of the next bend of the river, smiling confidently. As Chachamaru slipped beneath the water, she heard her begin: "Lic lac la lac lilac…"

* * *

"How are you feeling, Chachamaru?" Evangeline asked, leaning idly against the doorframe of Chachamaru's small annex. Surprised, Chachamaru looked up from the cats crowding around the bowls of food on the floor.

"I am fine now, Master," she replied, pulling the towel closer around herself. She couldn't actually feel the cold water on her 'skin', but Hakase – sounding incredibly annoyed over the phone – had insisted she dry off before more water leaked in.

"Well, that's good," the shinsō replied, scratching the back of her head with a single filed nail. "After the stupid stunt you pulled, I'm surprised."

"…Yes," Chachamaru murmured, turning her face away. "…Master?"

"Yes? What is it?" Evangeline replied, eyes fixed on her servant.

"Master, I wish to apologize for disobeying you. It will not happen again," Chachamaru continued. "In fact, should you wish to –"

"Oh, be quiet," Evangeline interrupted, pushing off the frame. "Come upstairs when you're done with the cats. I'll have tea ready."

Evangeline stepped out of the room and closed the door. She sighed and shook her head fondly. "You kind-hearted fool," she murmured.

Then she went upstairs to prepare the tea.

* * *

**12. Kū Fei **

**"**Kū Fei-taichō." Manabe Zennosuke bowed formally as the diminutive captain of the Mahora Martial Arts Club strode into the clubhouse. Kū Fei bowed in return, a vaguely ridiculous sight given Manabe's advantage of forty pounds and a full foot.

"What's the news for today –aru?" Kū Fei asked, settling into a pattern of basic _kata_. "Is the Kendo Club still causing trouble at Chao Bao Zi?"

"No, taichō," Manabe replied. "Sat-cha, er, I mean Yotsuba-san talked to their captain and she agreed to lay off the hockey team."

Kū Fei nodded thoughtfully. "That's good. With Linshen-chan gone, there have been more fights over there recently –aru… or at least more threats. Sat-chan does a good job keeping things quiet, though –aruyo."

"There is some bad news for the morning, though, Kū Fei-taichō," Manabe continued sheepishly. "Uh, we're running low on funds for club upkeep and uniforms. All those new recruits after the Būdokai cost us a lot, and none of them gave back their equipment after they quit, either."

"We could go find them all –aru," Kū Fei mused, sliding into the more advanced attack forms. Manabe frowned. _What, like some kind of repo men?_

Kū Fei noticed the look on his face, and laughed. "Kidding –aru, Manabe-san. No, I have a better idea!" She relaxed from her stance and stretched, slowly cooling down. "Go find Negi-sensei from class 3-A, please –aru. Tell him I want to talk to him."

* * *

"Kū-rōshi? You wanted to talk to me?" Negi called, looking curiously around the World Tree Plaza. There were quite a few people milling around, odd for a Sunday, but his energetic teacher was nowhere to be seen.

"Aha, there you are, Negi-bōzu!" Kū Fei crowed, coming up from behind him. "I thought we could do some sparring –aru. It might help drum up interest in the club."

"Okay, Kū-rōshi, but – wah!" Negi cried, dodging Kū Fei's openhanded strike with an effort. "Why right hoof," he began, letting out an explosive huff of breath as her second blow caught him in the stomach.

"Less talk, more Hakkyoku-ken –aru," Kū Fei called, settling into an aggressive stance. Negi fell into his own stance, smiling now. "That's much better, Negi- bōzu," she said approvingly. "Toriyah!"

* * *

"Good morning, Kū Fei-taichō," Manabe said, bowing from his place by the door. Kū Fei returned the gesture and began stretching. "Good morning, Manabe-san –aru. Did we get any new recruits from the match yesterday?"

"We did, actually," Manabe said, nodding. "Students from junior high all the way up to university stopped by to apply."

"That's great –aru!" Kū Fei replied, smiling.

"Er. Well, there's another issue," her student added, sounding a bit chagrined. "We also got contacted by the Dean yesterday. He wants us to pay for the property damage you and Springfield-sensei caused during the match."

"…How much was there –aru? Not a lot?" Kū Fei asked hopefully.

"A lot," Manabe sighed. Kū Fei shook her head ruefully.

"…Maybe we can make the new recruits pay it off –aru?"

"Taichō …"

"Sorry."

* * *

**4. Ayase Yue**

The sun had set several hours ago, and by this time the lighted windows of Mahora Gakuen no longer outnumbered the stars. Yue sighed, leaning back against the cool iron bench she had settled onto. It was way after curfew, and if she were caught there'd be hell to pay; but on one hand she couldn't bring herself to care that much about The Position, and on the other… on the other, she couldn't bear to face Nodoka right now.

"Grandfather…" she murmured, staring up through the branches of the World Tree at the nearly full moon. "Tell me what to do…"

But that wouldn't happen. Even in life, Ayase Taizo had never let her take the easy way out. If she asked him a question, he encouraged her to find the answer on her own; as a young girl she'd found his roundabout questions infuriating, simply because they meant she had to _think_. It was a masterful application of the Socratic Method, and Yue felt her throat grow tight as she thought again of his voice.

But this wasn't why she'd snuck from the dorm. With an effort, she wrenched her thoughts back to the matter at hand: Negi-sensei, and Nodoka, and herself.

"'Wait until after she's graduated,'", she spat. "What a friend I am." The tightness in her throat grew painful, and she welcomed it – a fitting punishment for someone who'd betray her best friend so casually. She reached absently for a juice box – finding none, of course. She was still in her _yukata_, and hadn't brought her bag with her. Was that her support system? Other people cried, or threw things, or shouted into pillows; she drank odd juices?

Self-psychoanalysis wasn't the answer. Or… perhaps it was. She couldn't speak with her grandfather anymore, but… perhaps she could pretend. It was a silly thought, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

_So, Yue-chin… what's the matter now?_ Taizo said, smiling warmly. Feeling a little more ridiculous now than she had before, Yue faced the moon, trying to imagine it was the light shining off the old man's head.

"I've wronged Nodoka," she replied softly, folding her hands in her lap. "I lied to Negi-sensei about her feelings, and I lied to her about Negi-sensei's."

In her mind's eye, Taizo nodded sagely. _And why did you do that?_

"Because… I was concerned for her," Yue began, but even as she said it she could taste the lie on her lips. "Because… because I love Negi-sensei."

She waited for a reply, ridiculously, childishly, straining to hear his answer, to hear it if it was there… but it wasn't. Nothing answered her but the suddenly chill wind…and a quiet footstep.

Startled, Yue whirled around, color rushing to her face. If someone had heard her -! If _Negi-sensei_ had heard her -! But instead of the friendly, bespectacled face of her teacher, she saw a long vertical stripe, a raindrop, eyes that sparkled like flecked gold.

"Z-Zazie-san," she exclaimed, heart threatening to pound from her chest. "I didn't – rather, I didn't hear you come up." How long had she _been_ there? How much had she _heard?_ "You're out late."

Class 3-A's number 31 nodded solemnly. Still flustered, Yue slid aside. "Would you like to sit down?" Wordlessly, Zazie took a seat next to her classmate. She didn't look at Yue; she just kind of… sat there. Even having known the girl for two years, Yue couldn't help but feel a little weirded out.

After a few minutes, Yue drew in a breath to speak. It was a quiet sound, but Zazie instantly turned from staring at the moon to fix her unusual eyes on Yue. She reached up with a single slender finger, placing it across Yue's lips to silence her.

"Everything will turn out all right," the quiet little acrobat murmured. "Don't worry." With that, she stood and walked away, vanishing almost immediately into the night.

Yue stared after her a moment. In the two years of their acquaintance, the number of words she had heard Zazie speak – let alone address to her – could be counted on the fingers of one hand, perhaps two if one got creative in terms of what defined a word. Why would she now choose to break that silence?

Because she'd heard Yue talking to herself, obviously. She'd heard her innermost shame. Somehow, though, she wasn't worried. The quiet girl's presence and words had been salve to her fevered mind – personal interaction cutting through the twisty passages of introspection. Yue smiled despite herself as she stood and began to trace her way back to the dorms, avoiding the teachers' usual patrol routes.

Besides, if there was anyone she trusted to keep it secret…

* * *

**Well, this was a fun chapter to write. I apologize for the overdose of ninja in the first half, but you can't really argue with inspiration.**

**ALL FIVE SPOTS are still open for Chapter 3! Drop me a review and let me know who you'd like to see. Keep in mind, though, that I prefer critiques over one-liners – and I won't even pretend that I won't consider your vote more strongly if you give me the former.**

**V**


	3. 21:17:26:7:31

**And so we come to Chapter 3. This marks the halfway point…**

**Chapter 4 will have six entries, just so I don't have to stick one girl in a chapter by herself. Please be sure to review and let me know who you'd like to see, and check my profile to see the lineup I'm thinking about.**

* * *

**21. Naba Chizuru**

Negi yawned, folding his class register closed with a _thump_. The sun was nearly down, and the classroom was quiet; that was likely because none of his students were in the room. Even Sayo-san was out, probably with Asakura-san.

It had been a long day, especially with the sheer volume of papers he had to grade. With thirty-one students, even simple sentence work took the best part of an hour to get through. He stood and slid his books back into his bag, ready to leave.

Suddenly there was a frantic scratching at the door. Reflexively, Negi reached for his staff, gripping the polished wood tightly – until the door opened and Kotarō stumbled into the room. He looked around wildly, and only after a minute did he notice Negi.

"Negi! You godda hibe be," he hissed, crouching behind Ayaka's desk.

Negi blinked. "Huh?"

"I'b beig chased. Where'd the bes' hidig place in here?" Kotarō scuttled on all fours across the floor over to Negi's sturdy wooden desk. He peeked suspiciously at the door.

"Who are you hiding from? That's probably the best place, anyway," Negi added after a moment.

"Chi-" Kotarō began, but he cut off with a rather uncharacteristic squeak as the door opened again.

"Good afternoon, Negi-sensei," Chizuru said, bowing as she stepped into the classroom. "I don't suppose you've seen Kotarō-kun around, have you?"

"Um, awa, no?" Negi tried, but Chizuru had already circled around the desk and seized Kotarō by the belt.

"Come on, Kotarō-kun, you'll feel better in no time," she said cheerfully, dragging him away. "I picked up some fresh green onions just now."

"I thod you were by fred," Kotarō muttered darkly at Negi, digging his claws into the floorboards. They didn't help much.

Negi stared at the door as the screeching sound of Kotarō's nails faded down the hall. What, exactly, had _that_ all been about…?

* * *

**17.** **Shiina Sakurako**

"Bet you five hundred I can make it," Yūna said, eyeing the smooth stone of the Mathematics Department building. Madoka sighed, shaking her head.

"It's not gonna work, Yūna," Dekopin Rocket's guitarist insisted. "Don't try it."

"I don't see why she shouldn't," Sakurako replied casually, half-sitting on a nearby table. "You're on, by the way, Yūna."

"Well, that's that then!" Yūna shouted, pumping her fist in the air. "The challenge has been accepted! I've gotta do it now!"

She extended a hand expectantly. Sakurako smiled wolfishly and placed her lacrosse stick into Yūna's palm, the ball already resting in the net.

"You just watch, Kugi-mii," Yūna chuckled, planting her feet. "I'm gonna send this ball right over the building and pocket five hundred yen for it."

"Might wanna get started on it, then," Sakurako put in, yawning exaggeratedly into her sleeve. "All I'm seeing so far is a lot of talk."

"Here I go!" Yūna shouted. She gave the stick a mighty swing… and the three watched as the hard rubber ball sailed directly into a third-story window.

"I'll take that five hundred now," Sakurako said, after a moment.

"Hope it's worth The Position," Yūna said, slapping a ¥500 coin into Sakurako's hand and taking off down the steps.

"Heh, yeah – wait, what?" Sakurako asked. "Kugi-mii, did you get that?" Madoka was gone too, though, and sometime in the past minute or so someone had given her back her lacrosse stick.

"Shiina-san," rumbled a voice behind her. She froze.

"Ye- yes, Nitta-sensei…?"

"Assume The Position! _Now!_"

"…Yessir."

* * *

**26. Evangeline Athanasia Katerina McDowell**

"Mistress, how are you finding the bath?"

The dark silhouette of the woman, stark against the candle-flame brilliance of the shoji screen, waved a lazy hand. "It's fine."

"Mistress." Shoko bowed, touching her forehead to the tatami mats lining the floor. Even if the customers couldn't see you, it was imperative to follow proper etiquette. Girls who were rude, even girls who did something as small as forgetting to bow low enough, were sometimes beaten, or sent from the bathhouse.

Shoko shuffled backwards until she was sure her shadow wasn't cast on the door anymore, then she stood up with a quiet sigh. Eight hours so far of tending customers, and most of them were fat and ugly merchants who thought Rei-sama was running a shop for… for bed-warmers, not for baths. There was no doubt the old woman would be, if not for the fact that most of the girls lived in town and could just leave… unlike Shoko. Was _that_ was Rei-sama had meant, that day long ago when the samurai had come through…?

She was so wrapped in thought that she missed the woman's next words. Her heart leapt in her chest. If the woman complained…! Shoko dropped to her knees, her head nearly bouncing off the reed mat. "Y-Yes, mistress?" she blurted. This was terrible. She would be sent home… or worse, trained in pillow-talk.

"I said, fetch me some tea," the woman repeated, sounding not annoyed but amused. Perhaps it wasn't time to worry just yet.

"Right away, mistress," Shoko said, getting up. She hurried down the corridor, dodging other serving girls and several drunken patrons.

The kitchen was, as usual, crowded and hot, and it fairly bulged with chefs preparing dinner for well-off clients and alcohol for commoners in the restaurant. Weaving through the confusion, Shoko quickly located the familiar face of Kanbei, the blind porter who took care of any orders the girls might have.

"Kanbei-kun, I need a pot of tea, please," she said, ducking aside to let a muscular man carrying a basket of fish pass by. Kanbei turned to face her, smiling. "Shoko-chan, as always, it's my pleasure. There's one ready just behind me." With unerring precision, he passed the tea tray over. Shoko bowed as deeply as she could without tipping the lacquered tray, then hurried back into the maze of corridors that serviced the individual baths.

"Mistress, your tea," she said, waiting before the door. Oddly, there was no answer, and the woman's silhouette was no longer visible. "Mistress?"

"Come in." Her voice was quiet, and sounded almost silky through the shoji. Shoko swallowed, suddenly nervous. Go into the baths with a customer? But she was a woman, so it was all right… wasn't it?

"…Yes, mistress," she replied after a minute, sliding the tray to one arm to open the screen. She entered the room with her eyes demurely downward, turning to close the door before daring to raise her eyes to the bath.

The woman was… beautiful. Her long hair trailed in the water like streams of gold, twisting in the faint currents caused by the movements of her long legs. Shoko felt her face heat, and she quickly glanced away. "Your tea, Mistress," she said, laying the tray down and arranging the cups.

After a moment, she heard water splash. She couldn't bear to lift her gaze from the tea set – to look again at the impossibly beautiful woman – so it was a complete surprise when she felt a pair of slender hands come to rest upon her shoulders.

"Thank you," the woman murmured, running a single nail along Shoko's chin. The girl shivered involuntarily, despite the heat.

"Mistress?" Shoko managed, half-turning to look at her. The woman's face was close – very close – to hers, and her breath smelled of amazake and sweet oranges.

"You've been very helpful tonight," she murmured, her breath tickling Shoko's ear. "You're lucky it's near the full moon, otherwise I'd drain you anyway…"

"W-what?" Shoko asked, confused. She felt a sudden warmth on her neck, the slow and sensuous pressure of the woman's lips and tongue. It was intoxicating, and it was only with an effort that Shoko pulled away.

"M-Mistress, I'm not an _oiran_," she said, voice shaking. "You can't buy me. But… if I were to give myself to you…" she began tugging at her _obi_, trying to unravel the knot that held the thick belt together over her _yukata_.

The woman laughed, an unexpected sound that set Shoko's face burning again. Had she said something wrong? She drew in a breath as the woman approached and laid one hand on her cheek.

"Why would I ruin a perfectly good virgin?" the woman asked, lowering her head to Shoko's throat. The girl felt a sharp pain, and the world drifted away…

* * *

"You should have drained her, Master," Chachazero piped up from her place in the corner, staring disapprovingly at the sleeping servant girl. Evangeline picked the doll up long enough to give her an irritated shake, then returned to dressing herself.

"Why, so the rumors about a vampire here can bring that damn onmyōji right back onto our heels? We're laying _low_, Chachazero. Remember that."

"Can I chop her up, then? It won't look like you did it, I promise," the puppet asked hopefully, after a moment's thought. Eva stuffed her into her bag, ignoring the muffled sounds of protest as she slung it over her shoulder.

Pacing to the far wall, Evangeline slid a razor fingernail down the paper, leaving a clean slice and exposing the room to the humid air of a summer night in Kyoto. She paused for a moment to take another look at the girl. She hadn't drained her, which didn't mean she hadn't taken a lot. Full moon or no, it was frankly stupid to pass up a virgin's blood, and there was still the matter of the onmyōji. Besides, Eva had the feeling that the four gold _ryō _she had left in a pouch in the girl's hand would speed her recovery. Yes, it was an exorbitant amount of money for a bath and some untouched tea; but hey. Good entertainment was so hard to find these days.

A predatory smirk on her lips, Evangeline leapt into the night.

* * *

**17. Kakizaki Misa**

"Heeeeeeey Ako-chan, look what I've got," Misa called, dancing into 3-A with the relative energy of a rabbit on crack. She had something in her hand, and she was waving it in Ako's face. That was about the extent of what Ako could tell at the moment.

"Mfh. What is it, Misa-chan?" Ako mumbled, peering through her hair at the other girl. She'd mostly been napping, and she was entirely unequipped to handle this level of excitement this early.

"Stay up all night waiting for mail from Nagi-san, eh?" Misa put in slyly, sticking out her thumb. "What I've got is even better than that!"

Ako shot up at Nagi's name, face tinged pink. "No, no, I was –" she broke off as she finally registered what Misa had. "Is that…?"

"Yup," Misa confirmed, nodding proudly. "Dekopin Rocket's debut album. And you can own your own copy for only ¥2000," she continued, displaying the jewel case like it was a literal jewel. Ako looked at it for a moment.

"Misa-chan, I'm _in_ Dekopin Rocket," she said. Misa nodded expectantly.

"In fact, I'm pretty sure I put that CD together," Ako continued, squinting at the case. There was a pause, then Misa sighed.

"You're not going to buy the CD, are you."

"No, Misa-chan."

"Dang."

* * *

**31. Zazie Rainyday**

呑気生命に

一番欣悦は

鳥を飼う

_Nonki seimei ni_

_Ichiban kinetsu wa_

_Tori wo kau_

In a happy life,

The greatest joy possible

Is to feed the birds.

* * *

**And there you have it. I'm g****oing to change things up a little here and talk about a few of the entries specifically.**

**Evangeline: I make no apologies for the trashy nature of this one. -_-; I wanted to try my hand at a period-piece, floating-world kind of feel, and to explore Eva's, if not nastier, then certainly her less-nice side.**

**Misa: How do you write about the girl who is literally the least important in the series? Sorry, Misa fans. This entry had more Ako in it.**

**Zazie: Yes, it's short. But I think it fits perfectly. I've got a much darker piece about Zazie simmering around, so if you're a bit upset with this… wait a while.**

**As stated before, Chapter 4 will have six slots. Get your votes in now for the four open ones… Haruna and Asakura will definitely be making their starring appearances in Ch. 4, though that means I'm not sure when it will be coming out.**

**V**


	4. 14:19:29:3:13:9

**Hello again, everyone, and welcome back – I know it's been a long time since my last update, and I can't really make excuses for that. Suffice to say that I'm back in the game… for now… and hopefully these next six won't let you down!**

* * *

**14. Saotome Haruna**

Market Day: a riot of color and sound in the lower streets of Megalomesembria, a veritable sea of cloth-covered tents and portable stalls that filled the air with amiable shouts, luscious smells and enchanting music. It was never a given whether the next stall vendor you passed even _looked_ human, let alone _was_, and the wares being offered were easily twice as exotic.

"It's like a manga," Haruna cooed, looking eagerly around at the hustle and bustle. She'd snagged herself a prime spot on the main thoroughfare – a cobblestone street straight out of the old parts of Rome – and was ready to settle in for the long haul. She'd brought plenty of cash from the mundane world, but it was a crapshoot whether the person you were talking to would accept it. No, drachma were the way to go, alright, and that meant doing business.

She looked up at the sign she'd hand-lettered, hung between two posts of the little stall she'd hand-drawn. "Custom golems," she read proudly, addressing the crowd at large. "Messengers, bodyguards, pets, anything you like! If you can dream it, I can draw it."

Aha – and here was her first customer of the day, a tall, dignified woman with a slightly leporine face. The request was a simple one, and Haruna hummed as she worked on the little messenger, essentially a tape recorder with big feathery wings. Less than ten minutes later, the job was done, and Paru's purse was a hundred drachma heavier. Quite a fair exchange, and she grinned as she added the money to the ever-growing stash inside her sketchy (but very secure) safe.

Come to think of it, Paru realized as she put the finishing touches – a Mexican _luchadore_'s mask, oddly enough – onto the fifth golem of the day, at the rate she was making money, she'd soon outstrip basic costs like food and housing. But it would be a waste to let this kind of easy cash go to waste…

"Come on, Paru, there's got to be something ridiculously expensive out there that you want," she murmured, leaning back into her comfy padded chair. Shielding her eyes from the midmorning sun, she peered down the street, eyeing the wares of the other vendors. A silver flute that played its own music? Nope. Further down the street, then: a tall, flightless bird that appeared to be changing colors in a dizzying, entrancing pattern. Tempting, but also no. She stroked her chin thoughtfully for a moment.

A large shadow drifted across the sun. She looked up idly; probably a cloud or something.

Or something.

Paru sprang out of her chair, hefting the Imperium Graphices with her to lay it invitingly on the counter. "Custom golems here, any size, any shape, any purpose," she called, shouting to be heard over the ambient din. She felt suddenly energized, feverish almost, anxious to draw – and the relatively large amount of drachma in her safe was starting to look mighty small all of a sudden.

After all, it was a sin to dream small when the sky itself was the limit…

* * *

**19. Chao Linshen**

**'**This, too, will end.' King Solomon.

Linshen had used the words like a sword, like a shield. The troubles at home, the upheavals and quiet fears of the people, would end. The long, sleepless nights spent in thought would end. The exams - which gave her more trouble than she cared to admit, though they were certainly never _hard_ - would end.

Chao Bao Zi stood quiet, the little terrace empty in the afternoon sunlight. The shutters were down, the stools stashed away under the railcar. The entire school had an air of relaxation to it; the sun was nearly down, and it was almost time for the grand finale. And what a finale it would be, with Negi-sensei out of the way. The lies of the mages, the manipulations and needless intrigues. These, too, would end.

And yet... there was always another side to the coin, wasn't there?

The days spent arguing, frazzled, with Satomi over what type of bolt to use would end. The silly talks with Kū Fei would end. The delights of a simpler life would end.

Her time here would end.

And yet. Linshen smiled despite herself, taking one last look around the plaza. The restaurant rested squarely in Satsuki's capable hands. Kū Fei would bounce back like nobody's business. And, most importantly, she had set into motion the chains of events that would lead, simplifiedly speaking, to her birth. So it was true, Linshen reflected, activating the thrusters in her boots to carry her to the blimp where Satomi was waiting. All things came to an end. But every end was also a beginning.

And anyway, it wasn't like she was never going to see him again.

* * *

**29. Yukihiro Ayaka**

"Honestly, this is just disgraceful," Ayaka huffed, bending to pick up Kotarō's crumpled, wrinkly jeans. "The boy lives like an animal. I can hardly believe he's related to Natsumi-san…" She balled up the pants, tossing them into the clothes hamper with a sniff. "Does anything I say get through to him?" She stalked across the living room, snatching up an equally-mistreated shirt. "Why can't he be more like Negi-sensei?"

The comparison wasn't even fair. Where Negi-sensei was gentlemanly, Kotarō-san was crude. Where Negi-sensei was thoughtful, Kotarō-san was tactless. Where Negi-sensei was a successful and brilliant junior high teacher, Kotarō-san was an elementary school student with poor grades living with his cousin. It was difficult to believe they were the same age.

Ayaka sat down with an absent sigh. It was difficult to believe. Were all ten-year-old boys like Kotarō-san? Or were they more like Negi-sensei? She rather hoped it was the latter, though it seemed unlikely. Negi-sensei was unique, special. No; it seemed Kotarō-san was the rule, rather than the exception. And wasn't that a worrying thought?

Ayaka stood, making for the clothes hamper – and stopped. If all ten-year-old boys were like Kotarō-san…

Knees feeling a bit weak, Ayaka sat down again.

It still hurt to think of him, all these years later. The baby brother she had never known. He would have been about ten now; two months to his birthday, the date never in this dream world made blasphemous by death. Would he have run like Kotarō did, with wild abandon? Would he have undressed with the same haphazard care, tousling his sun-blond hair with his shirt? …Would he have been friends with Negi-sensei? She liked to think he would have.

Ayaka bowed her head, letting the tears come. This was an old sadness, but no less sharp for its age. Slowly, unconsciously, she pressed her face into Kotarō's shirt, letting its softness and its simple presence, the simple fact of the boy's life, soak in. It was an old sadness, and a familiar one; it would pass, in time –

The door swung open suddenly, and Ayaka jerked her head up. "I'm home," Kotarō announced, nudging the door closed behind him with a lazy foot. "Man, it's a lot cleaner in here now… oh, hey, nē-chan. D'you clean up?" The black-haired boy had circled around the room to stand in front of Ayaka, and now regarded her with interest.

Wordlessly, Ayaka stood, the shirt now balled loosely in one hand. Kotarō cocked his head. "Uh, is that mine?"

Before he had time to manage more than a surprised "Wha?", Ayaka stepped forward and embraced him. She held him as tightly as she could, painfully so; his bony shoulders cut into her arms, and his head pressed uncomfortably into her breasts. But that didn't matter. Not right now.

"Call me selfish if you want to, Kotarō-san…" she murmured, tears beginning to form in her eyes again. She lessened her grip, starting to pull away, and stopped in surprise: Kotarō's arms were around her, too, and held her as tightly as she held him.

The pair stood there for a moment, until at some invisible signal they both stepped back. Kotarō, his cheeks a faint pink, looked away. "So, uh, nē-chan, you feelin' better now?"

Ayaka nodded softly, rubbing discreetly at her eyes. "Yes, Kotarō-san, thank you. I do feel much better."

"Good, 'cause I don't really wanna do that again," he grumbled, walking away. Ayaka hadn't missed the faint half-smile on his face, though.

"Oh, Kotarō-san," she called as he reached the door to his closet-turned-bedroom, "here."

She tossed him the rolled-up shirt, which he caught with one hand. He gave her a nod and headed inside. Ayaka drifted back to her chair.

Maybe she had been a little harsh on Kotarō-san before. He was surely trying his hardest, and for all his gruffness… well, even if he hadn't understood the situation, he'd known what she had needed most of all. That was special, too.

"Hey!" Kotarō's voice cut through her thoughts, and she looked up in time to watch the balled-up shirt sail through the air and land on her head. "You got my shirt all wet with your stupid tears!"

Ayaka pulled the shirt off her head, tossing it into the hamper. This once, she'd forgive him… because that was what family did, after all.

But he'd better not push his luck.

* * *

**3. Asakura Kazumi**

Evangeline raised a finely-sculpted eyebrow. "You want me to what?"

"Teach me magic," Asakura repeated, hooking her thumbs into her belt loops. The redhead smiled devilishly, absently digging her feet into the sand.

Evangeline snorted. "Learn from boya, like everyone else," she said, pulling her wide-brimmed sunhat back down over her eyes. The shinsō had placed her chair and umbrella far enough up the white sand beach to be out of range of the inevitable splashes from the full-contact game of water polo the members of Ala Alba were playing, but close enough to laugh if anyone got hurt. It was the perfect spot – except that it meant she was easily accessible.

"Negi-kun's got enough on his plate with them," Asakura pointed out, ducking under the umbrella. "I'm not asking to learn Magica Erebea. Just beginner's magic."

"So pick up a frigging textbook," Evangeline snapped, pushing her hat back with an annoyed jerk. "What gives you the slightest idea that I have time to waste walking you through Ardescat?"

"Oh, I don't know," Asakura replied sweetly, leaning over the vampire. "Call it a hunch… _Kitty_."

Evangeline's lips compressed into a thin, bloodless line. "So you're going to blackmail the Gospel of Darkness."

"Well, yeah," Asakura admitted with a sheepish smile. Evangeline sighed and swung her legs off the chair, handing her sunhat to Chachathree.

"Go get yourself a wand, then, and be quick about it," she commanded, eyes narrowing as she grinned a grin with rather too many points in it. "Since you're so insistent on becoming my student, I might as well teach you a few simple lessons."

* * *

"Itadakimasu," Setsuna murmured, picking up her lacquered chopsticks with the grace of long practice. The sun had gone down, but the tropical night air was warm. Breezes blew in through the dining terrace, stirring the little candles that dotted the room like stars; the diners oohed as the tiny flames changed color in a captivating whirl.

"Delicious as always de gozaru," Kaede remarked, nodding thanks to Chachamaru, who hovered behind her master's chair at the head of the table.

"Yeah, it is," Chisame agreed. She paused, a piece of tuna halfway to her mouth. "Hey… Sensei, where's Asakura?"

"Eh? Asakura-san's gone?" Negi asked, eyes widening. And yes, her chair was empty. "I wonder where she is?"

"Don't worry about it, boya," Evangeline called, taking a slow sip of the rich red wine in her glass. "I know exactly where she is." She shot a glance over her shoulder, peering out into the moonlit twilight – perhaps at the tiny tongue of flame just barely visible on the little island some eight hundred meters off the coast.

"She's just learning a rather basic lesson."

* * *

**13. Konoe Konoka**

It was late now, very late. The storm clouds roiling over Kyoto had darkened the sky prematurely, giving much of the afternoon the pale, thin feeling of twilight; but it was certainly past midnight now, and the full moon peeked shyly through the gaps opening here and there in her curtains.

The rain still fell, but it was lesser now, a whispered _zawazawa_ that was comforting in a way, like the summer songs of cicadas. It drifted through the open _shōji_ from the smaller of the Konoe compound's courtyards, providing little but the illusion of relief from the humidity. Illusion or not, though, Setsuna fancied it helped a little. As for the open door… well, that was why Yūnagi was close at hand, wasn't it?

Konoka was asleep, and Setsuna would give her life to ensure that she stayed that way. This trip had been far too eventful already, and if anything –

A voice cut into her thoughts. "Did you know, Secchan?"

Her voice was quiet; even though she was in the next futon over, Setsuna wasn't sure she had heard her. As the swordswoman started to sit up, however, she spoke again.

"I've been having nightmares. Really bad ones."

Setsuna closed her eyes tightly, a stab of guilt pressing sharp against her heart, and it was worse than unforgivable to pretend to be asleep. "Ojō-sama –"

"Secchan." The quiet plea in Konoka's voice brought her bodyguard up short, and she fell silent again as her charge continued. "They weren't about being kidnapped, or about that big demon. Not even about Eva-chan." Setsuna opened her eyes again as quiet footsteps crossed the space between their futons, and her eyes widened as the shape silhouetted in moonlight above her resolved into Konoka. Slowly, the older girl knelt.

"O-ojō-sama," Setsuna managed, feeling her face heat. Their faces were mere inches from each other – to think that someone might see them –

"I have nightmares about you, Secchan," Konoka murmured. "About when you fought that girl with glasses. I keep having nightmares about you – losing, and I – I want to wake up, because you always – die…"

Setsuna flinched involuntarily as something splashed onto her face. Rain?

No. Konoka was crying quietly, her tears crossing the space between them to say what she could not. Setsuna sat up.

Beside her, Konoka looked up, one hand rising to rub at her eye. Setsuna leaned forward, folding her charge in a hug, an absolutely brazen move that was completely unthinkable and completely out-of-bounds, but the bounds could go screw themselves for this once, because ojō-sama needed this. Needed her.

Konoka buried her head into the nape of Setsuna's neck, and Setsuna found herself stroking her hair, slowly, like a mother would a frightened child's. She could feel the other girl shaking in her arms – her fragility, her fear, the weight of what had been done to her, pressing far too strongly on her thin shoulders.

"I will never lose, Kono-chan," Setsuna whispered, closing her eyes. "When I'm fighting for you… nothing in the world can ever defeat me." She continued stroking Konoka's hair, willing her support and devotion and… love… through the touch.

After a while, Konoka's breathing deepened, and Setsuna smiled softly. "Sleep well, ojō-sama," she murmured. Konoka shifted, nuzzling into her shoulder, and the swordswoman stifled a laugh. "Don't worry… I'll be here."

And the first thing Konoka saw when she awoke the next morning was her face.

* * *

**9. Kasuga Misora**

The trouble with most churches, Misora reflected, was that they were old buildings.

Now, of course this gave them dignity, the weight of tradition (even here in Japan, where the very oldest churches were less than two centuries old); there was a feeling of solidity and security in a stone church that only partly arose from its construction.

No, the major problem when dealing with buildings like that was upkeep. Eternally, floors needed scrubbing, windows washing, pews polishing, gardens weeding… none of it was _hard_ work, but it _was_ time-consuming, and each job could be picky in its own way. That was why it was usually divided up between the sisters.

'Usually' in this case referred to the time before Sister Shakti had decided to let Misora do all of it for a few days; since she apparently wanted the priest's job, the Sister had said, grinning not-quite-evilly, she might as well do the rest of them too.

"I'm going to die, Cocone," Misora mumbled into the thick rug of the private chapel. "Goodbye. Tell Negi-kun I'm sorry about dragging down the class's grades."

Seated on a nearby pew, Cocone said nothing, as usual; but her silence somehow managed to convey both amusement and admonition. "You only have to dust the altar, Misora," the young girl said, after a moment. "Then we can go to Chao Bao Zi and get some food."

Misora, unmoving, grunted apathetically. "I think I might already be dead, come to think of it," she mused aloud a few seconds later. "And this is Hell. Everything makes sense now."

There was a pause. "No, I am not ignoring you!"

Misora heaved herself up, muscles complaining, to lean on her elbows, rubbing distractedly at her face where the thick pile of the rug had left a pattern. "I just think it's pretty easy to tell me to hurry up when Sister Shakti told you not to help out."

Not-quite-visibly stung, the little Magistrix looked away, and Misora sighed. "Sorry, sorry. It's been a long day. I know you'd help me if you could." She levered herself up, crossing the distance to sit next to Cocone on the pew. "Come on, let's just go now. The altar can wait, right?" She extended a hand to the younger girl. "Ready?"

Cocone looked at the offered hand a moment, then placed her own hand in Misora's. The redhead smiled. "Come on, let's go." She slid off the pew, kneeling to pick Cocone up on her shoulders. When the girl was secure, she set off, making sure to flick off the lights as she left.

The chapel stood dark and quiet. Quiet, but not empty.

"Misora didn't finish her duties," Sister Placida sighed, a note of disapproval evident in her quiet voice as she spoke from the doorway. Beside the older nun, Sister Shakti nodded absently, fiddling with the gold cross set into the neckline of her habit.

"I think we can let her go this once," she said, taking a few steps into the chapel. "Don't you?"

"She didn't finish the dusting," Sister Placida repeated stubbornly, running a finger over the altar, which incidentally came away spotless. "Lord, that child is a pain."

"Sister, I set Misora to keep this old place up by herself," Sister Shakti replied, "a job that usually takes all twenty of the initiates. She's succeeded admirably for the past four days. I doubt God will disagree with giving her a short break." She pulled something from her sleeve, and for an instant the setting sun through the chapel window sparked gold off the many crosses embossed into the card. "But He'll have to wait His turn to send her to Hell if she impersonates a priest again."

Sister Placida let out a chuckle. "There's the Sister I know and love." She looked around the chapel again and sighed. "You know, getting some food does sound like a lovely idea about now," she admitted.

Sister Shakti smiled. "Let's head over to Chao Bao Zi, then," she suggested. "I'm feeling rather hungry myself."

It would be a little bit inaccurate to say that the two nuns jogged from the church. But only a little.

It was rude to keep friends waiting, after all.

* * *

**Hey everyone, first of all, thanks so much for your patience over the past few months. Pretty much the only reason I wasn't writing is because I'm a lazy bastard, so if y'all feel like getting in a kick or two, go right ahead.**

**Individual drabble rundown time!**

**14. Haruna – I've had this one around for a while, I just had to fine-tune it and type it up. I like the idea of Paru working as a sort of mercenary artist… it suits her.**

**19. Linshen – Hopefully I managed to capture the sort of melancholy feel I was going for with this one. And you **_**know**_** she's coming back.**

**(I will never ever agree that Chao is her first name, by the way, because it isn't)**

**29. Ayaka – Underneath the violence, you know they love each other. In a familial sort of way.**

**3. Kazumi – That lesson, of course, being not to blackmail the Gospel of Darkness. I loved writing the bit about 'too far away to splash, close enough to laugh at injuries' bit.**

**13. Konoka – God DAMNIT this one was hard to write. My creative process usually involves several days of doing nothing, then a few hours of staring at my screensaver while I think, then shutting off my computer in disgust. Then, a few hours later, I **_**have**_** to get my notebook out and write. **

**I hate my creative process. But I love KonoSetsu fluff, so it's all worth it.**

**9. Misora's one of the girls who, though she has a small role, is very thoroughly characterized. It was pretty easy to write this once I got the germ. Cocone's surprisingly easy to write, for a slightly creepy seven-year-old magical savant girl. Sister Placida's made up, by the way. I dunno what she's for.**

**As always, everyone, thanks for reading, and thanks in advance for your reviews! Next chapter will only have five girls again, but I'm taking suggestions – Nodoka will definitely be making her debut in Ch. 5, though. Count on it!**


	5. 25:18:5:27:23

**Dear god why does it take me so long to write these things. I don't know.**

**Anyway, we're closing in on the home stretch! This cements the final five as Yuna, Asuna, Madoka, Makie and Satsuki. I'm not sure when this'll be officially finished, but rest assured that they'll be up eventually - hopefully before the series ends.**

**Moving on.**

* * *

**25. Hasegawa Chisame**

"Ahaha, that's a beautiful sight," Chisame sighed happily, taking a sip of lemonade. "Chiu's homepage is officially the number-one site in Japan for five weeks straight as of today."

"Congratulations, Chiu-sama," chorused the electron sprites, crowding around her monitor. It wasn't like they needed to see the screen to access the information, but Chisame let them anyway. It was good to be queen, and she was officially high on life.

"Okay, that's enough. Go see if you can get the A/C any higher," she said, brushing the sprites away with a hand. As they flew off, she clicked back to her email client. The sprites had spent about a week, back when she had gotten the Sceptrum Virtuale Regnis, constantly informing her of new mail, until she'd ordered them to stop – which she kind of regretted now. It'd been pretty convenient. Anyway.

Most of the new mail was just automated notifications, which she trashed, or fanmail, which she didn't feel like answering right now. Buried among the pile, however, was something from an unfamiliar address – but not one that was terribly hard to suss out, unless 'Negi-Springfield#Mahoradotjpn'***** was a really clever spambot. She moved to open it.

"Chiu-sama, don't!" one of the sprites shouted, flicking its tail. There was a tiny spark and a quiet crackle as the mail deleted itself – and the computer shut down.

Chisame rounded on the mouse. "What the hell was that for? I didn't save my photo post!"

The sprite bobbed gently in midair, looking contrite. "Well…"

***Forgive me for that. If I used actual email formatting, FF would redact it, ruining the whole story.**

* * *

"Want another pancake, Secchan?" Konoka asked brightly, handing the swordswoman a plate already heaped with strawberries and fresh cream. Setsuna accepted it gratefully. "How about you, Asuna? Negi-kun?"

"Yeah, come down and eat already, Negi," Asuna called up to the loft, spearing a plump strawberry. "You can check your mail after breakfast."

"I was just going to check it, but my computer crashed," Negi replied miserably, poking the power button. "And now it won't turn back on."

"Did you screw something up?" Asuna said, standing up with a sigh. "Let me –"

The door burst open, slamming against the far wall hard enough to leave a small dent. Konoka nearly dropped her pancakes; Setsuna's hand flashed to Takemikazuchi, ready to face whatever came through –

"Sensei!" Chisame shouted, storming into the room. She took the ladder rungs two at a time, barely breaking stride as she clambered up into Negi's loft.

"Oh, hello, Chisame-san," Negi began. "Good mor – wah!" he cried, reflexively dodging his student's opening punch. "Wha – awa!"

"Stop moving around and let me hit you," Chisame ground out, still taking swings. "Why the hell would you send me a virus to wipe my hard drive? I'm lucky the sprites caught it!"

"Chisame-san, I haven't been able to open my mail," Negi explained frantically. "My computer won't even turn on!"

"Hm?" Chisame paused, looking over at the monitor. She almost reluctantly released Negi's shirt and sat down at the keyboard, letting out a frustrated huff as the power button continued not to work.

"I guess you might have picked up something that was trying to propagate itself," she muttered. "You can't even turn the thing on?"

"No," Negi replied, still looking a bit rattled. Chisame sighed.

"Fine. I'll take a look. _Adeat_," she intoned, pulling her card from her pocket. "_Nihil nullum zefirum. Spiritus Magus unum. Spiriti electronici ferantur super aquas_." Negi's monitor sparked into reluctant life as the electron sprites dove into the CPU, and Chisame took a deep breath. "_Ego electrum regno._" The world dissolved into hazy green sparks, and Chisame fell into an endless ocean.

"Weird…" Chisame muttered, looking around. The water around her carried an eerie sort of chill, and it was full of silt, which allowed just enough visibility to see – nothing, in any direction. The overall effect was a dizzying combination of claustrophobia and agoraphobia, of being slowly crushed to death while standing on an endless open plain. Chisame shuddered.

"Chiu-sama, do you think we should be afraid?" one of the electron sprites – Konnya – asked, perching delicately on her shoulder.

"I don't need you asking me something like that," Chisame snapped, perhaps a little more tensely than she had meant to. She peered around. "Is it like this because the computer was off? Is this the boot stage?"

"I don't know," Konnya moaned. "I have –"

"Limited data capacity, yeah," Chisame interrupted distractedly. She raised the Sceptrum Virtuale Regnis, keying a search command into a virtual keyboard with her other hand. It manifested as a searchlight, which she swept around in a broad arc. It cut through the fog well, though there was little to see. "All right, let's get to it. Maybe I can – hey." She frowned, turning the light back to where it had been a second before. "Did you see that?"

"No, Chiu-sama," Konnya answered, probably because it had buried its head between Chisame's breasts and was shivering uncontrollably. Chisame set the Scepter aside; it bobbed gently in the water as she pulled the little mouse from her shirt.

"Look, whatever's wrong with this thing, it's not gonna be a problem," she said, holding the sprite at her eye level. "Okay? 'Ego electrum regno', remember?" She smiled wolfishly, and took up her Artifact again. "Let's see." The beam of light grew brighter, cutting through the murk… and illuminating the edge of something black and scaly. Something huge.

Something _moving_.

Chisame felt her eye twitch as the murky water parted and more… and more… and _more_ of the creature came into view. The other six electron sprites appeared around her in crackles of static, chattering all at once. Finally, one of them pushed its way out of the press. "Chiu-sama, we think there might be something dangerous around here!" it squeaked.

Chisame looked up at the gargantuan beast, and tightened her grip on the polished metal haft of the Scepter. "No shit?"

* * *

"She's been out a long time," Asuna murmured, looking down at Chisame. They had moved her onto Negi's bed nearly half an hour ago, when it had become clear that she wouldn't be coming back around any time soon, and Negi had started to fret.

"We need to help her," he decided, standing up. Asuna put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down, casting him a sideways glance.

"What're you going to do, stupid Negi? If the computer won't turn on, there's nothing we can do," she said, though she obviously liked it as much as he did. "We just have to wait."

Negi frowned, then stood up again. He folded a handkerchief and leaned forward, using the soft cloth to wipe the sweat from Chisame's face. Suddenly the girl let out a gasping, shuddering breath, and she opened her eyes.

"Chisame-san," Negi cried. Chisame's eyes narrowed, and she grabbed the boy by the shoulders.

"What – the hell – kind of twisted sites have you been visiting?" she croaked, eyes sparking with rage. "That virus could crack a goddamn military database!"

"I –" Negi began, speaking with difficulty through the shaking he was receiving. Asuna stood up wordlessly and laid her hand on Chisame's shoulder, then turned and went down the ladder. Chisame watched her confusedly, momentarily leaving off her Negi-abuse.

The sounds of a scuffle were audible from the floor below, and after a moment Asuna climbed back up to the loft. "You're asking the wrong person," she said, holding out her hand. Chamo waved at Chisame from the redhead's grip.

"Hi, jō-chan," he said weakly. "Eheheh. Can you blame a guy for having needs?"

"Yes," Chisame replied darkly. She nodded thanks to Asuna and hopped down from the loft, heading out the door.

"Come on, aniki! You understand, right? Come on, jō-chan!" Chamo's voice faded down the hall.

Negi blinked. "Should we help him?"

Asuna shook her head. "Nope."

* * *

**18. Tatsumiya Mana**

A flurry of limbs. Cordite, sharp in the midmorning air, and the heavy _thud_ of bullets impacting flesh. Colorless smoke burst among the trees, and Mana pivoted in place, tracking the true movement with her guns rather than her eyes. _There_. The lean shape flickered, and Mana bared her teeth in a predatory grin. She dropped to one knee, half-turning to catch the _shūndo_ user in her tracks. As expected, there she was, bull-rushing the sniper from a mere three yards away. Not nearly close enough.

Mana fired twice, killing shots, and the target crumpled, sliding to a stop in the dust at her feet. Straightening from her battle stance, she walked to stand over the prone form, keeping the triggers of her airsoft pistols _just_ slightly depressed.

"My victory, Kaede," she said, allowing herself a small smile. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"You did very well, Tatsumiya-dono," Kaede agreed, rolling over onto her back to face the sniper. She propped herself up onto her elbows, using one hand to wipe the blood away from the small wound between her eyes. "You're at quite a disadvantage here in the forest –de gozaru. As usual, I'm impressed with your skill."

"I appreciate the training," Mana replied coolly, the closest she would come to outright thanking Nagase Kaede. "As for you, you should work on your _shūndō_. Appearing behind your opponent is unimaginative, and hardly counts as subtle."

"I'll keep that in mind –de gozaru," Kaede said, smiling. Suddenly, she whipped herself into a curl, slamming her feet into the ground with an explosive blast of dust. Mana brought her guns up in one fluid motion, squinting through the blowing particles of sand to track her opponent. _Damn ninja_. She'd used the rotational momentum of a curled-up _shūndō_ to propel herself spinning backwards, and if the disturbed air currents were anything to go by she'd also managed a mid-air flash step. She might be anywhere.

Mana kept her eyes in constant motion, blinking rapidly to keep the dust from settling in. Kaede wouldn't try the _shūndō_ from behind again, not so soon – unless she wanted the element of surprise that would accompany such a boneheaded move. Mana turned –

"Wrong –de gozaru," Kaede said from – _above her_. She landed behind the sniper, pinning her arms in a cross underarm hold, and swept her legs out from under her. Mana hit the ground hard, her face pressed into the dust; one of her pistols had been knocked from her grip in the fall, and she struggled to bring the other one to bear.

Kaede's hand slid onto her own, pressing her wrist into the ground. Mana felt a knee pin her other hand as the ninja's weight shifted forward, and a cool sharp pressure kissed the side of her neck.

"I may be a _ninja_, Tatsumiya-dono," Kaede whispered, her breath warm on Mana's ear. "But you're right – the subtle approach doesn't work very well on you –de gozaru." She stood up, and a moment later she was in front of Mana, holding her hand out to the sniper.

Mana took it and stood. "And what do you mean by that, Nagase?"

Kaede smiled enigmatically, as she always did, and vanished into the forest. Mana's lips tightened, and she bent to pick up her dropped pistol. An infuriating woman, was Nagase Kaede. She brushed a hand over her ear.

Infuriating.

* * *

**5. Izumi Ako**

"Do you think Honya-chan's right?"

The question surprised Akira, and she paused in brushing her teeth to look over at Ako. The pale-haired girl was staring into the mirror set above the smaller of the two sinks in The Great Paru-Sama-gō's cramped bathroom, brushing the same patch of hair she had been five minutes ago. Akira bent and spat, rinsing away the strangely off-mint toothpaste with a splash of water from the leaky faucet. "Right about what? This 'Code of the Lifemaker' being able to bring everyone back?"

Ako nodded vaguely. Akira frowned slightly, putting a hand on Ako's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, Ako. You know that."

"It was, though," Ako replied, turning to face the taller girl. Her eyes were a bit red, but her voice was strong. "I know that it's my fault that Tosaka-san was killed."

"It was his own choice," Akira said. "And you weren't in any real danger." "Tosaka-san didn't know that," Ako said. "And that makes it worse. He died for literally nothing – but he was still trying to save me."

"I just can't believe that he only wanted to save you," Akira muttered, more to herself than to Ako. "It seems so… out of character. I'm sure he had some other –"

"Akira." Ako's voice was quiet, but it silenced the swimmer immediately. Ako met her classmate's eyes, and her gaze flashed with an emotion Akira had never seen there before – anger. "He hasn't been dead a day yet."

Akira stood surprised for a moment, then slumped against the edge of the sink, suddenly tired. "I – I'm sorry, Ako. It's been a long day, for all of us," she said. "I know that doesn't excuse what I said, and I'm sorry. He _did_ save you, and he deserves respect – for that, anyway."

It was Ako's turn to embrace her classmate. "I'm sorry too, Akira. I didn't mean to yell," she said. "Well, I did. But only a bit." She shared a quiet laugh with the other girl, then pulled away. Akira watched her curiously as she nodded firmly to herself, her eyes set in determination.

"If—_when_ Negi-sensei and the others get this Great Grandmaster Key," she said, "we'll bring back Tosaka-san, and Chief, and everyone else. And when we do, you and I can say 'Welcome home' to him, alright?" She smiled, and now she was crying, just a little.

Akira nodded, smiling in return. "All right."

* * *

**27. Miyazaki Nodoka**

In the Mundus Vetus, especially in the old days of Manifest Destiny and other empire-building movements, building a town had been a relatively simple affair. In its most basic form, a town required settlers, land and a vision, not necessarily in that order, and of the hundreds of tiny settlements that were raised, those that possessed all three survived more often than not, while those that lacked any one or two dwindled and faded.

In the Mundus Magicus, those three requirements were often not enough. The Magical World was a young and untamed place, boasting hundreds of thousands of acres of untouched jungles, mountains and plains – and rather than buffalo and horses, the settlers faced wild dragons, griffins and the occasional basilisk. Magical World settlements added a fourth item to the list: heavy weaponry.

The facts of life on the frontier gave most border towns a unique feel to them. The phrase 'rough-and-tumble' came to mind, Nodoka decided as she looked out over the tiny town of Corallus. Built along a river, the town wandered, snakelike, across about half a mile of land, and Nodoka stretched up on her tiptoes to see if she could see the other end. The small rise she was standing on gave her a good view, and she could almost make out the other end of the dusty road – the road that led to Ostia.

"Hey, missy, be careful," admonished Craig, coming up behind her. "You tip over that cliff, and you'll probably roll all the way to town."

"Um, I'll be okay, Craig-san," Nodoka stammered, feeling her face heat. She hadn't been that close to the edge, but the concern in the blond swordsman's lazy eyes still made her feel guilty. "I just wanted to see the town better."

"Cut her some slack, Craig," Aisha called, hopping down off of her gelding now that town was within walking distance. "She picked her way through those ruins with us just fine. I doubt she's just going to trip over a cliff."

"You never know," Kristian said teasingly. "You're sure she can see through all that hair, right?"

"Wah," Nodoka protested, reflexively scrunching down. Craig's gloved hand settled on her shoulder, and he squeezed reassuringly.

"Come on, let's get going," he said, leading her back over to his horse, which she had been riding through most of the day. "Once we're back in Corallus, we'll settle down, split the loot –"

"And drink 'til beer comes out of our ears!" Kristian shouted, pumping a fist in the air. Aisha leaned over and smacked him, but she was smiling. Even Lynn looked amused, and she punched Kristian too, for good measure.

"Should we really drink around Nodoka, though?" Craig mused.

Kristian leveled a finger warningly at his friend. "Don't even joke about it, Craig. This is a tradition, remember? Explorers throughout history have ended their adventures in taverns!"

"Um, in fantasy books in the real world, adventures usually _start_ in taverns," Nodoka said, smiling shyly. Kristian looked at her for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"Is that so? Hey, I didn't know that! That's great," he said, wiping away an imaginary tear. "At least they got something right."

"It begins and ends with taverns with you, doesn't it?" Aisha asked. Kristian coughed, looking away pointedly, and she smacked him again. The conversation dissolved into good-natured bickering, and Nodoka let herself tune it out.

As always, she wondered how Yue was doing. By her count, it was now September 9th – far longer than they had planned to be in the Mundus Magicus in the first place – and most of Ala Alba was still missing, including her best friend. It helped to know that Negi-sensei was all right and looking for everyone, but…

"That's way too serious for a kid to look," Craig remarked, looking up over his shoulder at her. "Thinking about a boyfriend or something?"

"Awa, no," Nodoka cried, her face turning beet-red this time. The swordsman chuckled, turning back to adjust the gelding's bit.

"Don't worry, missy," he said, after a moment. "We'll get you to Ostia, even if we have to sacrifice ourselves to do it."

"Do – don't say things like that, Craig-san," Nodoka stammered. As the quintet started down the hill, however, she looked around. Aisha met her eyes, giving her a confident nod. Kristian grinned, fiddling around with the daggers stuck into his belt. And Lynn, walking alongside Aisha's horse, cracked her knuckles solemnly.

"Th – thank you, everyone," she whispered, tears starting to well up in her eyes. She beamed.

"It's settled, then!" Kristian shouted, pumping a fist into the air. "To Ostia in one week's time!"

"Yeah!" The hillside reverberated with the shout.

* * *

**23. Narutaki Fumika**

"Narutaki-san... Narutaki-san. I trust you both know why you're here?"

Seated in the hard wooden chairs on the other side of Nitta-sensei's desk, the twins could do little but squirm. "Yes, sensei," Fūka muttered, pouting a little.

Fumika poked her sister surreptitiously in the side, shooting her a slightly panicky look. "Don't be rude! He'll give us The Position," she whispered. Nitta's glasses flashed, and Fumika squeaked as he fixed her with a stare.

"After what you two did, Narutaki-san, you'll be getting The Position no matter what," he rumbled. "How many rotten eggs did you hide in the teachers' dormitories? I want numbers and locations."

"I don't wanna ruin the surprise," Fūka replied, smiling devilishly.

Nitta-sensei stood, his face turning dark red. "Narutaki-san, you –"

"I'll tell you, Nitta-sensei," Fumika blurted out, standing as well. "I'll show you where they are." There was a moment of silence as both Nitta and Fūka looked at the young ninja-in-training incredulously, then they both started to speak at once.

"Well, thank you, Fumika-san," Nitta began, adjusting his glasses.

Fūka kicked her sister none too gently in the leg. "What are you doing, Fumika?" she shouted. "After all the trouble we went to!"

"You can most certainly help us clear the eggs out, Fumika-san," Nitta continued. "Fūka-san: The Position. Now."

"Hmph," Fūka spat, sliding to her knees from the chair. "Traitor," she hissed at Fumika.

"Actually, Nitta-sensei, I want to do The Position too," Fumika said. "I helped Fūka-onēchan hide the eggs anyway, so…"

Nitta raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to, Narutaki-san," he said, almost questioningly. Fumika nodded firmly.

"Yes I do," she replied. Nitta sighed, nodded, and sat back down behind his desk, opening a newspaper as he settled in.

"You're kind of stupid," Fūka whispered to her sister. "Why'd you volunteer for The Position? Do you like not being able to feel your legs?"

"Well, you're my onēchan, aren't you?" Fumika replied quietly. "And besides, abandoning one's comrades isn't the _ninja_ way."

"Fumika…" Fūka said, surprised. Then she smiled, and leaned over to hug her younger sister. Nitta lowered the newspaper for a moment, then raised it again, looking almost embarrassed to intrude.

"So… how many are you going to 'forget' about?" Fūka asked, whispering just past Fumika's ear. The younger girl didn't reply, but she silently held up three fingers.

The twins shared a grin. Who said they were dissimilar, anyway?

* * *

**Doesn't really feel like we're close to the end, does it? It'll be kind of odd to be able to put 'Complete' next to this fic on my profile (which I encourage y'all to check out if you like '31'). Read that stuff while you wait for me to update this stuff!**

**25. Hasegawa Chisame - Yes, Chamo looks at weaponized porn. And don't even try to argue that he doesn't.**

**18. Tatsumiya Mana - Subtext? What subtext? (It can be read without it, though, so don't let it bother you too much.)**

**5. Izumi Ako - 'おかえり' (okaeri), a semi-ritual phrase that's used to greet people who have just come home. Tosaka will be quite embarrassed and probably insult Ako when this happens. Also, yes, Ako has a Kansai accent, like Konoka and Tsukuyomi. That's why she's using -han instead of -san; I just don't like adopting the usual Southern accent it gets dubbed into.**

**27. Miyazaki Nodoka - I love Nodoka's adventuring band. Here's to seeing Nodoka bring them back soon.**

**23. Narutaki Fumika - There are those who say that Fumika is the 'nicer' of the Narutakis. These people are wrong.**

**As always, reviews are love, so even if you want to shout at me for taking too long to update I promise I won't hold it against you. =)**


	6. 16:11:20:2:8

**Phew. It's been a long road - one that's taken longer, perhaps, than it should have - but here we are, loyal readers: the final chapter of Thirty-One. No matter how much I bitched, I know most of you - heck, all of you reading this last note - decided to stick with the fic and with me to the end, and that means a lot. You guys treat me better than I deserve, at least in terms of forgiveness for my update "schedule". Thank you all for sticking around.**

**

* * *

****16. Sasaki Makie**

Laundry day.

For most of the students of Mahora Girls' Junior High, laundry day was like a holiday. Only the most conscientious girls washed anything less than their entire dressers' worth of clothes, waiting until the last possible day and the last wearable outfit; the girls of Class 3-A were no different, and the end result was usually twenty or twenty-five girls all using the washing machines and dryers near the third-year bathhouses at once. It was, predictably, chaos, with the Narutakis occasionally sparking dirty sock fights and with Zazie stealthily snuggling with everyone's dryer-warm towels.

Makie squirmed a little on the hard wooden bench in the center of the aisle between two rows of dryers, watching her clothes spin around and around. She'd agreed to watch their joint dryer while Yūna went out to the baths one floor up, but it was getting a little late now and she really wanted to take a bath before bed. It wasn't all that hard to sneak around school after curfew, but the teachers made after-hours sweeps of the baths, and worrying about being caught wasn't a good way to relax the way you were supposed to.

The dryer beeped just as Yūna came in, wrapped in a towel and still dripping wet. "Hey, Makie-chan, thanks for waiting," she called, raising a hand in greeting. "You can go up now if you want. I'll take care of the clothes."

"Okay," Makie chirped, hopping to her feet. She edged past Yūna, who opened the dryer and started pulling clothes into a basket.

"Oh, by the way, what do you think of the new teacher? Negi-kun?" Yūna asked teasingly, grabbing a few articles of clothing from the basket. She folded her towel over the bench, bending to pull on her underwear as she spoke. "Cute, isn't he?"

"He's adorable," Makie agreed, smiling. He was, too – but not like Asuna-chan thought Takahata-sensei was cute. Their new teacher was a _ten-year-old_ British boy, which was silly enough if you thought about it, but wasn't it good to have a British person teach English? Hadn't they invented it?

"Ow," Yūna said, followed by a sound of snapping elastic. Surprised, Makie turned to look at the basketball player, who was pulling uncomfortably at her bra. "I think my boobs are getting bigger again," she said darkly. "This thing doesn't fit me at all anymore. It's like a piece of string tied around my chest." She took it off, turning the garment around to look at the tag.

Makie did her best not to look down at her own chest, but she could hear the '_pettan_'* anyway. People came in all shapes and sizes – look at Chizu-chan and the Narutakis, or, dare she admit it, Iinchō – but it would be nice to not be Makie-sized sometimes. It had a way of making her feel inferior.

"Oh, I see," Yūna exclaimed, tossing the bra back into the basket and grabbing another one. "_There_ we go. That other one was one of yours," she explained, going back to getting dressed.

…Case in point.

* * *

**11. Kugimiya Madoka**

"...No, that one doesn't work either… why do I even own this shirt," Misa muttered, tossing the offending garment over her shoulder and back onto her bed. She held up another one, eyeing it critically. "What do you think, Kugi-mii?" she asked after a moment, turning to look at the other girl, who was sitting at Misa's writing desk reading a magazine. She held the shirt up to her chest. "Too bright? How's the neckline?"

"It's a little low, Misa-chan," Madoka replied absently, turning a page. The magazine's news was about half a month out of date, but it was worth it to read interviews with musicians who were really only popular in the United States. And English characters were really simple; it was the grammar that was hard to work out.

"Well, yeah, okay, but do you think Negi-sensei likes low necklines?" Misa asked impatiently, discarding that shirt as well. "Come on, Kugi-mii, I need your help. The Reverse Hikaru Genji Plan isn't going to work if I can't actually Reverse-Hikaru-Genji Negi-kun."

"That nearly makes sense," Madoka said, maybe a bit snappishly. The magazine was hard enough going without Misa talking to her. "Why not just try honestly? And more importantly, don't you already have a boyfriend?"

"That's not the point!" Misa cried, turning away from her mirror to lie across her bed. "Anyway, Kugi-tan, I would've thought you'd be a little more interested in the Plan yourself…" she raised her eyebrows suggestively at Dekopin Rocket's guitarist, who frowned and finally set her article aside.

"Why's that?" she asked. Misa shook her head.

"I think you know why," the singer replied, rolling over onto her back. Her hair cascaded down the side of the bed, and she looked at Madoka upside-down. "You thought Kojirō-san was cute, didn't you?"

Madoka nearly choked. "Wh – what? I did not."

"Called it," Misa announced to the world at large. She gave Madoka a thumbs-up, and even upside-down Madoka could all but see the swirly fingerprint on it.

"I didn't," Madoka protested, feeling color rush to her cheeks. "And even if I did, what on earth does that have to do with your Hikaru Genji plan?"

"_Reverse _Hikaru Genji plan," Misa corrected her. She held up a finger. "Okay, look. One: You know what Kojirō-san looks like."

"Yeah?" Madoka replied warily. Misa held up her other pointer finger.

"Two: he's Kotarō-san's _brother_," she continued. They had found this out after Mahorafest, by pigeonholing Natsumi's young cousin. "You see? It's exactly similar," she said, touching the tips of her fingers together above her chin. "You just have to take the initiative."

"…and seduce Natsumi-chan's ten-year-old cousin," Madoka said flatly. Misa nodded encouragingly. Madoka sighed, shaking her head. "Nothing doing, Misa-chan. _If_ I were interested in Kojirō-san – which I'm _not_," she added warningly, pointing her rolled-up magazine at Misa – "I'd go after Kojirō-san, not anyone else."

"But Kotarō-san said he worked overseas in America," Misa reminded her. "You might never get to see him again."

"I don't _want_ to see him again," Madoka insisted doggedly. "He and that Nagi guy walked in on Ako-chan changing for the concert, remember? He's a creep."

"Okay, okay," Misa said, sitting back up and walking back over to her closet. She bustled around for a second before turning back to her friend; she was holding the shirt she had just discarded.

"Would you like to borrow this, by the way?" she asked airily. Madoka colored again, saying nothing. Misa stepped around the bed and presented it to her. Madoka snatched it from her and pointedly reopened her magazine.

Yeah, English was hard, but it was easier than dealing with certain people who were way too perceptive for their own good.

* * *

**30. Yotsuba Satsuki**

'…seven, eight, nine –' Satsuki counted under her breath, watching the little wood-framed analog clock over the sink. As the second hand counted 'ten', the peal of thunder reached her, grumbling across the sky like an old man muttering to himself. Satsuki exhaled and folded her newspaper, looking out over the plaza from her chair behind Car One's counter. The late-afternoon air was thick with summer heat, and the world was storm-bright, lit by the setting sun filtering through dark clouds and by flashes of lightning. Students and faculty alike were holed up in their dormitories or houses; a chipmunk, scurrying into its den underneath one of the trees at the edge of the cobblestones, was the only living thing visible among Chao Bao Zi's chairs and tables.

'I guess there's no harm in closing up for the day,' Satsuki said aloud, setting her newspaper on the stack in the recycle bin. She stretched to her tiptoes to grab the aluminum shutter above the counter, rattling it down in its frame just as another murmur of thunder sounded. 'It's quite the storm out there,' she murmured, turning to reach for her thin raincoat on its hook by the door. Her fingertips just brushed the water-repellant fabric –

And the coat fell to the floor.

Satsuki blinked, confused. She'd barely touched the garment at all, and the hook was a sturdy piece that Linshen-san had made herself in the University's metalworks shop. 'I must have hung it up wrong,' she said, bending to pick it up. She slung it around her shoulders – then stopped. She turned back to the rest of the railcar, knowing that the sound was impossible – but there it was. The faucet was running.

This time she frowned, crossing the tiled floor to close the faucet firmly. It had leaked once, but Satomi had fixed that – leading to a period of about a week when it was impossible to open the faucet at all – and anyway, that hadn't been a leak just now, but a steady stream of water. It was a little… disquieting, really. She turned the light off with a deliberately final _snap_ of the switch and opened the door.

The storm's fury, only promised until now, rushed in through the opening, blasting Satsuki with wind and sudden rain. The newspapers in the recycle bin flew into the air, dancing around the kitchen in a confused whirl, and Satsuki closed the door with an effort, pressing her back to the metal. The displaced papers fluttered to various flat surfaces like settling birds, and Satsuki sighed. She couldn't just leave them lying around.

She'd collected most of them, and placed an empty _nikuman_ box atop the stack as a paperweight, when she heard something rustling under the counter. Satsuki knelt, and spied one last newspaper in the crawlspace under the sink. She reached for it.

It slid away from her hand.

Satsuki snatched her hand back, alarmed. Yes, the newspaper had just moved on its own, and no, it hadn't been the wind this time. After a moment, she tried again, cautiously, to pick up the paper. It moved again, farther this time, and Satsuki almost heard – what was that? It was making a faint sound.

Satsuki laid herself prone on the tiles and went in after the paper. It evaded her hand quite well for an inanimate object, and – yes, now Satsuki could definitely hear some kind of sound coming from it. She backed the newspaper into a corner, and just as she touched it, she said, 'Hello?'

There was a long pause, then: "H – hello?"

Satsuki opened her mouth to reply, but the paper continued. "P-please, ghost-san, please don't eat me, I'm just a junior high school student, I don't taste good at all," it cried, wriggling in her hands. Satsuki slid herself out from under the sink and knelt, laying the newspaper on the floor at her knees.

'I'm not going to eat you,' she said reasonably. 'I don't eat newspapers.'

The newspaper almost seemed to regard her quizzically, then it twitched. "Ah! Y-You must be…" The edge of the paper, which had been pointing toward Satsuki as she spoke, flopped back down to the tiles, and a ghostly form rose from the headline.

"…Yotsuba-san, right?" the transparent girl finished timidly. She was wearing an old-fashioned sailor _fuku_, and she was pressing her index fingers together nervously.

Satsuki blinked, but recovered quickly. 'Aisaka Sayo-san, right?' she asked, smiling. 'I don't think we've met before, but I recognize you from the class roster.'

"Oh no, we haven't met," Sayo said hurriedly, coming further up out of the newspaper. Below the edge of her pleated skirt, her legs faded into a misty tail, which disappeared into the paper. "But I used to come by the restaurant sometimes when I was lonely, so I –I guess I feel like I know you, a little bit," she finished, a faint tinge of pink coloring the wall behind her cheeks.

'I see,' Satsuki replied. 'Is that why you came over now, Aisaka-san? You're lonely?'

"No," Sayo replied, her blush intensifying. "The problem is, well – I was with Asakura-san and Negi-sensei and Kagurazaka-san and everyone in Konoe-san's room, and they're telling ghost stories, and I hate ghost stories," she moaned, sinking back into the newspaper. "Even though I'm a ghost too."

'Sayo-san, are you all right?' Satsuki called, sticking her head under the counter after her. Sayo's fine white hair rose from the paper, followed by half of her head, until her nose appeared to be resting on the newspaper itself. Her pale red eyes glowed in the darkness.

"I'm sorry," she said miserably. "I'm terribly sorry. I came over here to hide," she confessed. "I didn't think you would still be here, and I didn't notice you until you started moving my hiding places around."

'Do you know any other ghosts?' Satsuki asked curiously. Sayo shook her head.

"No, but that's why I don't like ghost stories," she said quietly. "I don't know if they're true or not. They scared me even when I didn't believe in ghosts, and now that I… kind of have to…" she trailed off.

'Well…' Satsuki said thoughtfully. 'Negi-sensei and the others… you mean Ala Alba, right?' Sayo's eyes widened in surprise at the name, and she nodded.

'They're all strong people, aren't they?' Satsuki continued. 'I think they're more than a match for any evil ghosts around the school.'

"Well, yes, but…" Sayo murmured, sliding the newspaper back out from under the counter. She rose from the floor enough to resume pressing her fingertips together.

'And more importantly, they're your friends,' Satsuki finished, holding her hand out atop Sayo's ghostly shoulder. 'More than how strong they are, _that_ means that you're safe with them, no matter what.'

Sayo stared at the plump girl for a moment. Her hands slowly balled into fists, and she nodded fiercely. "You're right, Yotsuba-san," she said. "You're absolutely right! I'll go back right now." She turned to leave, then shrank back. "But… I don't know if I can make it back through the storm," she said worriedly, looking up as if she could see the raindrops now marching in formation across the metal roof.

'You can –' Satsuki began, but she was interrupted by a sound from outside. Satsuki stood, listening carefully, and Sayo poked her head through the shutter.

"It's Asakura-san," she exclaimed excitedly, pulling back into the railcar. "She came looking for me!"

Satsuki pulled up the shutter, and sure enough, a redheaded figure in a poncho was walking across the plaza, calling Sayo's name. Satsuki put a hand to her mouth. 'Asakura-san!' she called, and the reporter paused, turned, and jogged over to the railcar.

"Heya, Sat-chan," she said, pulling her hood down as she stepped under the awning. "Have you seen – ah, there you are," she interrupted herself as Sayo rushed into view. "Sorry about that, Sayocchi," she explained, hugging the ghost girl. "We weren't really thinking,"

"It's okay," Sayo replied. "Did you come out into this just to look for me?"

Kazumi looked puzzled. "Of course. You're my friend, aren't you?"

Sayo's eyes glittered, and she threw her arms around the other girl. "Yes, I am."

'You should probably get back to your rooms,' Satsuki remarked, stepping out of the railcar and turning to lock up. 'This will only get worse.'

"Yeah; let's go, Sayo-chan," Kazumi said, pulling her hood back up. "I had to shout everyone else into staying while I came looking for you, you know? They're all pretty worried." She started off, and Sayo pulled intangibly at her arm.

"Wait, Asakura-san," she said. She turned back to Satsuki. "Would you… like to come with us, Yotsuba-san? You're our friend too, right?" she said, smiling timidly.

"Hey, yeah, come with us, Sat-chan," Kazumi urged her, grinning. "We won't get ghost story weather like this again in a long time."

'I'm not very good at telling ghost stories, Aisaka-san,' Satsuki demurred.

The redhead and the ghost promptly flanked her, Kazumi taking one arm and Sayo attempting to take the other. "That's okay, Yotsuba-san," the ghost girl said, smiling. "Neither am I… but maybe we can try, together."

Satsuki met the other girl's smile with her own.

'…I'd like that.'

And off they went.

* * *

**2. Akashi Yūna**

Hey, Mom.

A lot of things have changed since we talked last. We went to Wales, in Europe, for summer vacation – because Negi-sensei's Walesian, you know – and I got a job as a waitress, and Makie-chan and I went on a cross-country road trip… kind of. It's been kind of weird since then. I've met a lot of really nice people, and seen some really weird stuff, but I guess that's what happens when –

Yūna paused in typing, and tapped her pointer finger idly against the side of her head. "Do you think it's okay if I tell my Mom about the Magical World?" she asked finally, looking around. Dinner was over, and the members of Ala Alba had spread to the various corners of the Great Paru-Sama's central deck to read, spar, practice spells, or – in Kotarō's case – nap. On the couch across the coffee table from Yūna's chair, the magical-scroll-whatsit-version of Eva-chan rolled her eyes.

"Does it really matter what you write in a letter to a –" she began. Asuna leaned over the back of the couch and hit her in the head, cutting the little blonde off mid-word. "Oh, what the hell, Kagurazaka?" she snapped, sitting up and lashing out at the redhead with her talons. Asuna took a judicious half-step backwards, taking her out of the vampire's admittedly short reach, and teasingly stuck out her tongue.

Eva vaulted over the back of the couch.

…"things are just weird," Yūna read to herself as she typed, over the ensuing chaos. She signed the letter, blew the screen a kiss, then saved and deleted the file. Standing, she handed the laptop back to Chisame, who nodded casually in thanks. The cosplay idol watched the basketball player head into the kitchen, then shrugged and slipped the computer back into its bag.

"Hey, jō-chan, think she's feelin' all right?" Chamo asked nervously, peering at the kitchen door over Chisame's shoulder. "I mean, deleting an email off a computer with no 'net is about as unsent as things get…"

"She got it anyway," Yūna replied cheerily, coming back into the room with three glasses of the pale pink fruit juice sold in markets all over New Ostia. She handed one to Chisame and set another down on the table for Chamo, taking a sip from her own as she sat. "I know she did."

"You mention the whole 'oh, we're saving the world now by the way' thing?" Chisame asked, after a moment. "That's news."

"I don't know if she'd believe me," Yūna replied, smiling. "I mean, she was a math teacher. What's that got to do with magic and war and all that?"

"Not much," Chisame replied shortly. She looked around the cabin and sighed. "Can we really call it a war, though?"

"Huh?" Yūna asked, confused.

Chisame waved her hand annoyedly, taking in the Paru-Sama, Jonny's flying fish, and their crews. "I mean, come on," she said, a little too loudly. "We've got seven mid-level bosses, an infinite number of one-hit-KO mooks, and a freakin' god to kill, and there are what, twenty of us? It's not like anyone else is fighting Kosmo Entelecheia." She let her hand flop down into her lap. "I mean geez, that'd work in a manga or something, but this is reality, you know? As much as I hate to admit it…" She pushed her glasses further up her nose, but Yūna didn't miss the quick flash of pain in her eyes. "…People have already died, you know?"

"I know that," Yūna replied quietly. "But we have to help Negi-kun stop these guys, or even more people are gonna die." She sat forward and shrugged. "Anyway, it's not like we need to fight all those guys at once. We can just take out that Fate jerk and get his fancy key, and we win. So it's more like twenty on one, if you think about it," she explained. "And I like those odds."

Chisame raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't think –"

"Wrong! Don't think!" Yūna shouted, loudly enough that Asuna and Eva-chin stopped fighting for a moment to look at her. "If you think too hard, you can't stop thinking about what might go wrong, or what happens if we screw up, or things like that. So don't think. Just _do_ it, and it'll be done, and we won't have to worry about what happens if we screw up because we didn't!"

"That's stu –" Chisame began hotly, then stopped short. She drew a breath, then stood. Yūna looked up at her curiously.

"God, Akashi, you're such an idiot," Chisame said, barking out a laugh. Yūna opened her mouth, but Chisame continued over her. "You sound just like that broken-ass old perv." She turned away sharply, heading for the stairs up to the deck. At the foot of the stairs, Chisame paused, one hand on the railing. The other might have jumped upwards to rub at her eyes, but her voice was strong when she spoke.

"You strong-ass morons are gonna have to fight for people like me, who can't," Chisame said, not turning around. "I can't help Sensei at all over this next part. So… help him out, would you? Kick Fate's ass extra hard, for me."

"Chisame-chan," Yūna said, stepping out from the table to catch up to her.

Now Chisame did turn around, and her old frown was back. "What, Akashi?" she snapped, straightening her glasses again.

Yūna held her hand out to the redhead. "When I said we were gonna do it, I meant we _all_ were gonna do it," she said, meeting Chisame's eyes. "We're all gonna save the world – together. Even you, who doesn't think it's real," she finished, smiling.

"Ah, shut up already," Chisame sighed, returning the smile despite herself. She took Yūna's hand and squeezed. "Freakin' moron." Her eyes softened behind her lenses, and she sighed. "Thanks, Akashi."

The redhead let go of Yūna's hand, then huffed a laugh as something occurred to her. "So, what do you want me to do, hit Fate in the head with my plastic wand?" she asked, smiling.

"That's the spirit," Yūna replied, grinning. The two mounted the stairs together, talking quietly. Chamo watched them go, sucking idly at his straw. After a few moments, Asuna and Evangeline, both looking a little worse for wear, sat down by the table.

"What was that all about?" Asuna asked, frowning at the stairwell.

Chamo shrugged, grinning. "Eh, something stupid."

* * *

**8. Kagurazaka Asuna**

"Man. Making me work like this – it's a violation of my rights, I know it," Anya muttered to herself, leaning hard against the cart. The wheels had to have gone at least twenty years without oil; the thing slid more than it rolled, and when one of the wheels _did _deign to roll it was with a sullen, screechy noise that made Anya's hair rise.

"Breakfast, Asuna," she called, finally managing to force the cart over the raised stone threshold. The jolts along the way from the kitchen up to Asuna's little room on the fifth floor had somewhat destroyed her food – the omelet the girl called Shirabe made every morning for her now resembled plain ol' scrambled eggs – but it wasn't like Asuna would complain. Or even notice.

"Open wide, Asuna," she said, forking up a bit of omelet. Obediently, Asuna opened her mouth, just like usual, and Anya fed her, just like usual. Her eyes – two different shades of blue, now that Anya had the time to notice – were fixed on a point somehow both right in front of her nose and several miles away, through Anya, and the Palace, and everything else. She chewed and swallowed with mechanical efficiency, drank with the same, and never made any sound at all.

"Feeling any better this morning, Asuna?" Anya asked, just to fill the silence. It was hard to affect a cheery smile and get the Japanese right at the same time, but on the off-chance that she would recover from… whatever it was… that Fate Averruncus had done to her… well, it was worth a little discomfort.

"Oh? Hello, little girl," said a voice behind her, and Anya stiffened as Tsukuyomi walked into the room. Of all the girls Fate had hanging around the Gravekeepers' Palace, this one was the worst. She continued to feed Asuna as the swordswoman came closer, smiling in her usual way.

"Good morning, Princess-han," she greeted Asuna, kneeling down next to her chair. "How's your breakfast?" As expected, Asuna said nothing. Anya cast Tsukuyomi a sideways glance; being this close to the woman, her skin started to crawl. She looked nice enough, but every now and then she looked at you with her _eyes_… Anya didn't see the swordswoman move, but suddenly she was looking straight at Anya, expressionless and utterly, horribly, still.

"Can you… go away?" Anya asked, taking great care not to wipe at the bead of sweat suddenly trickling down her forehead. She didn't dare blink or look away, but looking directly into the dark pits in the centers of those _eyes_… she felt like a tightrope artist – walking the balance between outright challenge and surrender. Either would be fatal.

The sweat ran further down the side of her face. Tsukuyomi didn't move.

"I guess she's still not back to what Fate-han wants," she declared suddenly, looking back at Asuna. Anya had to grip the fork almost painfully to keep from shivering with released tension – it wasn't over yet. "It seems like a waste to me, though…" the swordswoman continued, laying her cheek against the length of thigh bared by the elaborate dress Fate had put Asuna into. "When there's so much fun to be had like this…" A flash of pink appeared between Tsukuyomi's lips, leaving a trail on Asuna's skin that glimmered in the midmorning light.

Anya stood with a clatter, knocking over her chair. "Get away from Asuna-san!" she shouted, reversing her grip on the fork. It was a pathetically dull piece of silverware, and she had really tiny arms, but there was no way she could miss from here –

"Fate-han told me not to touch her, and I'm not going to," Tsukuyomi replied sniffily, addressing Anya directly for the first time. "I was just promising myself I'd do it later, when she was strong again. It's not fun if she's not strong." Her blade was in her hand now, and she smiled innocently at Anya. "But you have more spirit than I thought. It might be fun to cut you up a little after all…" All traces of humanity in her, whatever few there had been, had vanished when she opened her eyes again.

"Ah," Anya croaked, taking an inadvertent step backwards. "Fo – **Fortis La Tius** –"

"Too slow," Tsukuyomi trilled, drawing her blade back for the swing that would kill Anya. The sword rushed forward –

And met resistance. The ring of steel on steel reverberated in the little room, and Anya opened her eyes tentatively.

The blade that had stopped Tsukuyomi's _katana_ was huge, a wedge-shaped broadsword that looked physically impossible to lift, and very familiar to Anya. "Asuna," she cried, looking over at the girl. "You –"

"I see," Tsukuyomi said, interrupting, and her blade was gone again. She bent to pick up her hat, which had fallen off, and nodded cordially to Asuna. "Until next time, then, Princess-han." As she left the room, she started humming.

"Asuna-san," Anya repeated, surprised. The redhead still stared into space – in fact, she was still chewing the last bite of omelet Anya had given her – but her hand was now extended in front of her, exactly where it would have been to hold the _Ensis Exorcizans_ in Tsukuyomi's path. Anya stared for a moment, then picked herself up off the floor. "Thank you, Asuna-san," she said quietly, and now she couldn't stop the tears as she buried her face in the crook of Asuna's neck. "Thank you." She got no response, but somehow she knew she would soon.

Very soon.

* * *

**Notes first, this time.**

**Makie: I'm not going to apologize for this one. It's the fanfiction author's duty to represent all aspects of the series he or she writes for, and if that means I get to write shameless fanservice I don't particularly mind. *shot***

**Madoka: If I weren't such a rabid Kotaro/Natsumi 'shipper I'd definitely ship Kotaro/Madoka. That's what I call Foe Yay.**

**Satsuki: ...Hard to write for. A lot of these later entries, it seems, resulted from my blindly flailing around on the class roster and picking whoever I ended up pointing to to interact with the subject of the entry. Someone PLEASE tell me they noticed the single quotation marks I used for Satsuki. Please.**

**Yuna: Rakan's erasure hit Chisame a lot harder than she showed, I think. I wanted to try to touch on that, and contrast it with Yuna's ridiculous well of optimism. I'll let you all decide how successful I was.**

**Asuna: In case you hadn't noticed by now, dear readers, _Tsukuyomi scares me_. She's pure unadulterated psychopathy wrapped in a deceptively cute package. It's like opening a Hello Kitty present and finding Dagon inside, _somehow_. This also rates as one of my fastest entries, and certainly the fastest by far of Chapter 6.**

**It feels good to finally have it done with, but it's a bit sad to put the finishing touches on one of my longest-running - certainly my longest, period - fics. I wouldn't have made it this far without my dedicated readers - special thanks goes to omegarulesall, for comprising a full 20% of my reviews by him (or her) self. **

**This certainly won't be the last of my _Negima!_ fics. Who knows? There may even be an addition to ThirtyOne sometime - ThirtyOne And Then Some, if you would. Until then, or whatever else the future holds, this is Red, saying 'thank you'.**


End file.
